Shattered Reef
by Darktayle
Summary: Saphira once wondered if she had kin over the sea. She did--Not across it, but within it. Though dead for millennia, the homeless child Embra stumbles across a dormant survivor, but little does she know that sea-dragons are nothing like their cousins...
1. Daughter of the Tide

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**Shattered Reef**

**Chapter 1**

Daughter of the Tide

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For the settlement of Teirm, it was a fairly normal morning. The sun peered through half-hearted clouds, allowing a few persistent rays to show themselves to the people below. It was market day, the day that came every week whereupon the locals, specializing in their various trades, took the fruits of their labour (or simply the labours of the employees) to the largest and most frequented plateau in the city.

Indeed, nothing seemed amiss. Everything was startlingly loud, filled with the typical hubbub of the marketplace. Buyers argued with extortionate prices, the owners of stalls boldly proclaimed the excellency of their products, and many a person frowned with distaste at one thing or another. This was, by rule, the way that such mornings played out. Most stalls would close after the sun reached its highest point in the sky, driving the customers to rush to buy what they needed, and their haste brought the prices even higher.

It was not only the ploys of salesmen that nudged the fees so much higher than they'd been once, though. Several prominent businesses—well-known components of the seaside settlement's economy—had broken down as of late. Either through bankruptcy, sabotage, or the results of malevolent action, life was not as easy as once it had been for the densely populated community, and taxes from the Empire continued to peak and strain the finances of everyone, from common workmen to the wealthiest of businessmen.

There was a smaller market that operated Wednesdays, concentrated on those who had enough produce to sell twice a week. The prices were lower, because fewer came, but those who did had been particularly troubled that week, because the suspicious activity centred around the home of a potential traitor had provoked the Empire's soldiers to cut the area off—unfortunately, the very place that the Wednesday market convened. As a result, the people who had come to depend on the twice-a-week supplies came in bulk to buy the products of today, filling every street to the brim.

It was noisy. It was disorganized. It was chaos, and such chaos allowed for a small, thin child to pass through unnoticed. With the crowds that pressed against the side of every man and woman, moving or stationary, the collisions made by the young, dark-haired figure among the masses were not noticed, until a startled buyer cried out in alarm at discovering his purse slit. Enraged, his eyes scanned his surroundings, and the less-than-innocent arm of a child slipping into another man's pocket raised his voice in warning, and rallied everyone to attention.

"Thief!" He snarled loudly, indicating the now-frozen pickpocket, stood still with a tiny hand clenched on coins. "Get her!"

The child, among the crowds, always had a good chance of carrying out her actions unnoticed, for all the mayhem there. But, while she had an advantage, it fast became a fatal error with the passage of three seconds, witness to three outraged words. Because, small as she was, the child was in the midst of a sprawling crowd, filled with people who feared for their money. But she had dealt with such situations before, and while less than elegant, it was the best thing to do.

She ducked under the nearest stall—a butcher's, demonstrated by several carving knives hung ominously behind the bloody meat as a threat, or merely as an environmental factor. Perhaps it was not the wisest place to take cover, thought the girl, scrambling to the side to avoid the clumsy drop of a sharp-edged killing tool—not a cleaver, but still dangerous. With a second's consideration, she pulled it from the earth and moved again, fast as she could, the stall breaking around her as bystanders smashed into it, in pursuit of her lithe form.

Slipping on a stray sliver of fat, her chin hit the ground and she barely managed to avoid the onslaught of pursuers. She was used to this, but that made it no safer nor any easier. Her knowledge of the market's layout, however, was considerably more helpful, and allowed her to throw aside a well-placed drape and slip into the tiny space between buildings that existed behind it. She slipped her handful of coins into the half-full pouch at her side, most of them already fallen from her frantic escape into the alley. For safety, the girl held her stolen knife point-down at the ground, to avoid injuring herself should something force her to move suddenly. The scar down two partially numbed fingers stung as a reminder to the sensibility of this.

She inched, heart pulsing wildly, along the narrow space. Arms reached into the tiny gap, their owners too large by far to squeeze in as she had. Though she was safe for now, she knew by experience not to linger. Other people had knowledge of their surroundings, after all, and she'd been caught at the alley's end before.

Cursing her recent growth, the child inhaled deeply and held her breath as she shuffled along the alley, heading for the closest exit, which was roughly nine meters of cramped movement from her current position. While she sustained several scrapes and scratches in the process, the black-haired pickpocket emerged into an open street, free from the crowds which plagued the one beside it.

Lit by the drowsy glance of the sun, a girl of perhaps nine or ten years flashed a wary brown-eyed stare down both ends of the long path. The wind caught her unkempt black hair, obscuring her vision for a moment as it flailed across her face. Grazed, calloused, and with many small injuries over her person, the girl was not in the least attractive, her comparatively clean body clothed only in broken rags that would probably not last a month more of wear. Her name was Embra, and for the last three-and-a-half years of her life, she had lived by the whims of chance.

She had a certain ragged appearance to her (like a feral child, as some people would say), and as she tensed under the light of day, she drew many eyes. Nervous and uncomfortable with being been, and fearing that one would recognize her and alert their fellows, she turned left and sprinted as fast as her legs would carry her. It was a long road, and several times she dodged bystanders or horse-drawn carriages, attracting cries of complaint which put her increasingly on edge, every nerve tense as she ran. She was quick, yes, but the adults that undoubtedly followed her now had more endurance and were generally faster than she was.

Embra's path took her towards the shoreline, its bleak shallows grey and dull over the countless pebbles, all of which were loomed over by the protective blackness of rough rock. It stretched far out to sea, and further along the coast reared higher, forming large, threatening walls against the sea.

It was to that vast fortress of nature that the child ran, thankful that there was no sand in which to leave footprints. Mindful of the knife she held at her side, Embra slipped into the water, causing as little noise as she could, ducking into an open rock pool and hiding in the shadow that it cast on the dark sea. Her black hair did not stand out against the waves as she waded, slow but with her heart hammering, towards the taller spans of rock.

At one point, a place very familiar to her, the shadows of the black stone concealed a shaded opening in the rock's face. It was small—too small for any adult of average proportions to fit into, but more than wide enough for a young girl, who was by logic smaller than she should be through malnourishment. She did, however, have to duck into the sea briefly to fit through the entrance, as it was mostly underwater, save the top five centimetres.

It opened up into a cave roughly six meters in diameter, though this was not certain, as it was anything but circular. The ceiling was extremely irregular, in places high enough that she could stand up with more than a head's room left above her, and elsewhere so narrow that she couldn't even fit there laying flat on her stomach. Those thin alcoves were where she stored her items, as they lodged there and stayed mostly dry, seeing as their placement was quite far from the water.

The tallest point of the cave was next to a shallow pool of seawater that flowed like its own tiny ocean. Embra had waded into it once, up to where she would walk no longer, and knew that there was a passage underneath that probably opened in the sea, underwater. She had not tried to swim there, mostly due to her doubts about its safety and whether or not she could hold her breath for long enough.

The small cavern, lit dimly by the five centimetres of light from the entrance, was Embra's home. It had been for two years, when she had been scrambling to hide from the victims of attempted thievery, and had accidentally fallen into the space, her shock causing her to flail and struggle until she came to enter the little haven. It wasn't a stroke of good luck, more something that had been generally inevitable. Many times before had Embra hidden in the black waters, and her accidental discovery of her indefinite home would have probably happened eventually. For the moment, it was a blessing that the entrance was so small, but she worried about what she would do when she grew too big to enter.

Casting aside her reminiscence, Embra knelt, catching her breath, and listened over the whispering waves for any indication that her hiding place had been discovered. There was faint, angry murmuring, most likely very far off, and the crunch of flat stones on the shore signified their departure. The girl allowed herself to relax, and crawled over to her small inventory, emptying her day's earnings into a little alcove where she kept her money. There was precious little, but it would probably last her a week, if she kept her spending sparse.

Next, Embra observed her stolen knife in the cave's dull light. She already had a knife, but it was chipped and the edge had long since been worn away. It was useful, as the only knife she had, but certainly nothing spectacular.

Her new find, on the other hand...

She turned it over in her palm, gently pressing a fingertip to its edge and gauging the sharpness without cutting her skin. Pleased, Embra wiped it on a cloth (as salt water was terrible for metal) she had nearby—the remains of her last clothes, which had deteriorated to a point when even an urchin such as she would consider it unusable. Placing the now-dry knife in the alcove, satisfied that it wouldn't rust, Embra took the stale leftovers of yesterday's bread, flavoured with a hint of salt, and ate it quickly, feeling the weight settle in her empty stomach.

It appeased her, for now, but she would have to get some more later. This would not be difficult, as she still had plenty of money to buy bread, and the little meat she could afford. Embra had learned to eat more than simple pastries when she had once fallen ill, a result of the wrong diet.

Having finished eating, Embra reached for the old, chipped knife which now didn't need to be so carefully looked after, and stepped to the pool at the end of her cavern.

Between two sharp juts of rock was roughly a foot of equally rough stone that seemed disconnected from the rest, somehow. When struck it didn't make the sound of a normal rock, either. Moreover, when she hit it, it wobbled slightly in its hold. That was hardly interesting—just a strange thing in a strange cave, but when she was bored and hiding there was little else to do except meaningless things, such as trying to get the strange stone free.

It was covered in all sorts of limpets, barnacles, and the somewhat dead things of the sea. It was another colour underneath, she knew, but for now it was almost entirely covered, and furthermore stuck to the rock with more of those such things.

She took the knife and hit its bluntest edge to the stone. Soon, it would be nothing more than a chisel, but useful nevertheless for this purpose.

A limpet came free. It was alive, but the shell wasn't intact. She could perhaps attach a string to it and fish for crabs later—they flocked to limpets, as she had learned. She put it to the side. After a great deal of battering, one of the two juts of rock was finally disconnected from her prize. It was a pleasing accomplishment—she'd been working on this for a while. It was senseless and achieved nothing, but it was something to do.

If it had merely been lodged between the two rock-spikes, she would have been able to pull it away now. However, it had evidently been there for a long time, possibly decades, and such a layer of limestone and other such things grew on it that it had nearly become a part of the rock around it.

Boredom or not, Embra would not have dedicated nearly as much of her precious time to the item had she not made a startling discovery one day upon pulling away a cluster of shellfish on their nest of algae. Beneath the deceptive stony shell was something blue and iridescent, something that gleamed invitingly in the bare light of her cavern. With the beating hope that it might be a jewel of some sort, she had persevered. Something of that size would surely earn her untold finances.

At any rate, she had broken through one of the three areas that the stone clung to its surrounding rock. The second would be easier, especially now that it had less support, but the third connected it along nearly its whole length to the wall, and would be a fearsome menace to discourage.

It was Embra's opinion that one should be awake so long as the sun was up, and if it wasn't, then it wasn't worth disturbing one's sleep for any other motive. As it was, the sun was still up, and she could still see light, so she was obligated to continue her excavation.

As she'd predicted, the other restraint offered no resistance once she hit it hard enough. Limpets, algae, and weak black stone surged from her blunt knife in layers, the constant force of the tide having rendered it malleable and porous.

Embra flicked it away into the water with her knife, as it was the type of rock likely to exhale a kind of black, viscous sand that would stink horribly and pollute her living space and hygiene, and then inspected her quarry. It was held in place now only by another layer of the sea's questionable bounty, and this one did not look as though it would come away so easily. It would most likely take her weeks, if not months. The prospect was more than slightly unfavourable, as she did not want to waste time she could use foraging on something which might turn out to not even be valuable.

With a sigh, Embra ducked out of her cave with an old, crude harpoon in hand. It had been abandoned by fishermen of the more wealthy kind, considered sub-standard to them, but despite its inability to shoot properly it still served its purpose as a spear. She made her way along the rocks, at one point knowing that her homely cavern was beneath her feet, and out to sea where the water was deeper, and scanned the black water for fish. She sighted two of significant size, but succeeded in catching neither. By that time it was nearly dark, as it was close to winter (and the chill reminded her that she would have to steal some warmer clothes soon), and so she abandoned her efforts to go back to her cave.

Before settling down on a pile of old, tattered clothes, Embra made a half-hearted stab at the stone's remaining restraint, and displaced three limpets and a length of algae before retiring to her makeshift bed. It was more of a nest than anything, and it could be unpleasant when the various rags became damp, but she had accumulated enough of of the things that they made a considerable and accommodating bundle on her floor.

They were bunched at the highest, most narrow, and most dry part of her cave. It tended to be easier to sleep there, as the cold wet of the ocean reached to her less often, and the compact nature of the space meant that it was warmer.

Embra pulled an old sheet over her, one she had woven in with an abandoned fishing net to make it heavier, and nestled with a sigh into sleep.

It was a welcome habit of hers that she woke with the dawn. In winter, this meant that she had a great deal more sleep, especially considering her self-assigned curfew, and that quantity of rest always ensured that she could struggle through Teirm's intense cold with little but a brief bout of illness to show for it. Her bed was certainly not the most comfortable one there was, but it was enough, and she normally slept lightly yet soundly. It was common for the screech of a seabird to wake her in the night, but with the conscious knowledge that such things would not threaten her, it was not difficult to get back to sleep. But, as a rule, Embra never woke unless there was something to provoke it; whether that be the dawn, a sudden sound, or some other variety of thing.

When Embra awoke that night, she did not break that rule. It was the sound of something breaking, and the the sharp _clack_ of something heavy hitting the rock floor that roused her. Immediately alert, Embra peered with squinting eyes into the darkness, and in the hint of stolen moonlight, sighted something shaped very much like her stone rolling down the cave towards the water.

Alarmed, she scrambled for it and halted its movement, first grasping it in a loose ten-fingered grasp which she knew would not last long against its considerable weight, so she shifted into the stone's path and let it roll into her lap.

Now that she was fully aware of exactly how heavy the thing was, it was little surprise that gravity had pulled it away from the wall, and the linear ridge of barnacles, algae, and limpets along one side was testament to its former lodging. She turned it, searching for the tiny area where there was a clear sight to the thing beneath the waste, and found something that gleamed iridescent blue in the all-too-dim light.

Baffled at how it had managed to dislodge itself without any external assistance, Embra decided that she would work at removing the thick outer shell later in the day, when there was sunlight to work by, and attempted to lodge it in one of the thin areas with the rest of her belongings, but it would not fit, as it was too large. Indeed, the thing was a little more than a foot in length and half that measurement in width, and the irregular surface allowed for no comfortable fit with the stone alcove. Perturbed, Embra placed it beside the alcove, and then scrambled to retrieve it when it began rolling down the cave again. Annoyed, she glared at the stone, and with a sigh brought it up to where she was sleeping. It was cold, damp, and littered with sea parasites, but this was the only way she could guarantee that she wouldn't lose it to the sea.

Irritable and slightly uncomfortable with the large weight of the stone nestled against her, Embra returned to her sleep.

Due to her discomfort, Embra woke a little earlier, and tangled the stone in a mesh of cloth as a substitute for herself, and when satisfied that it would not desert her, left the cave with her knife and money pouch.

As early as it was, there were already some merchants preparing to sell their wares. One, a clothes-seller, had exactly the variety of thing that she needed, and while she haggled with him for one of the smaller, cheaper and more flimsy garments she discreetly bundled a few others into her bag.

After buying five items of clothing for the price of one, she made a quick exit into an alley, just in case he discovered his missing wares. Fortune must have been shining on her then, because she found the cloth of some villager laid out on a line to dry. It was high above her and out of reach, but there was plenty of clutter around to climb, and with a lengthy struggle Embra succeeded in parting one of the largest items (a thin wool bed-sheet) from the line. Because her bag was already full, Embra made her way back to the cave, using a seaweed-concealed hole in its roof (one too small to fit through) to push her conquests in. This way, they would not become wet from the short trip underwater.

She checked on the stone to make sure it was still in place, and then left to buy food. As a regular thief, she was well known to the merchants, and only the ones with vicious dogs and guards would allow her to buy from them, as they knew they had nothing to fear from her. Embra stole a smoked fish (smoked because they lasted longer that way) of a reasonable size right out from under their noses, and after spending some of her stolen coins on bread and thin, dry meat, retreated to her cave.

She had dropped the food through the roof-hole through which she claimed a lot of her light, and as it had landed on the clothing she'd dropped in earlier, it had not accumulated any amount of dust or grime by the time she entered, although the salt tang to its taste was something inevitable that she had long since adapted to.

After she had had lunch, Embra settled down with old blunt knife and large stone, placing the thing in her lap as she inspected the stony layer of waste around it for flaws. The biggest, of course, was where the blue colour was visible, and she started from there, chiselling the stubborn crust off little by little from that small flaw. The stone beneath in that area had already begun to accumulate a thin layer of crystallised salt and limestone on its surface, but it was thin enough that she could brush it away with a wetted finger, exposing the beautiful surface to the light.

Because of that one fundamental flaw in the shell, Embra was able to lodge the tip of her knife beneath the rest and pry it off easily. Bit by bit, limpets and pieces of stone and seaweed and slime came off into a growing pile, a pile which would later be shovelled into the sea without a thought. There was something immensely satisfying in removing that grey, unpleasant crust to expose the lovely smooth surface beneath, and Embra became more and more excited by her discovery the more she uncovered. So far, she had discovered its surface to be completely smooth, despite her clumsy knife work and the years of abuse the sea had thrown its way. Its surface seemed to shimmer between a light, icy shade of blue and something darker, but equally bright. It reminded her, inexplicably, of the painting she'd seen once of the tropical ocean, with its clear, beautiful water. The colours in its surface were similar to the ones on this, and she wondered what the stone could be, as she had never heard of any sort of jewel that emerged from its ore so smooth or of any jewel so hard that it would be flawless after all varieties of trials.

In her work, Embra didn't notice as the day's hours quickly slipped away, and only became aware of the passage of time when she realised that the light was becoming too dim to see by. It was horrible timing, as she was very close to uncovering her stone completely, with only a thick fragment on one end to show for its former encasement. She contemplated continuing despite the dwindling light, but decided against it, as she would not only lose sleep but risked harming herself or damaging the stone without anything to see by. So, once again, Embra curled up in her nest with the stone against her to prevent it from rolling away. This time, though, there was only a small portion of the rough time-hardened grime on it, and the stone's smoothness found that it became warm quickly, and was much more pleasant to the touch.

Sleep came with considerably more ease that night, partially due to the preferable texture of the stone and partially due to the new wool sheet she was using as a blanket. While the weight of the large stone against her small body was unfamiliar and admittedly not very comfortable, being curled up around the thing in a nest of rags and sheets seemed oddly natural, and Embra was followed into sleep by a peculiar sense of warm contentment.

Oo0oO

The next day, Embra woke, and rather than head out for early foraging, took the stone in her lap and hit the last of its disgusting shell away, tossing it into the pool at the end of her cave.

The unburdened entirety of the stone was oddly beautiful, and as she held it up to the light, interlocking shades of azure, ice, and peacock blue lanced across its iridescent surface. It reflected light almost as if it were a mirror, and she thought that if it were submerged in any body of tropical water, it would be very difficult to spot. The thing was unnaturally smooth, and the shape of it was just as strange. She had seen pebbles smoothed to a half-flat state by water before, but they had all been of a material and colour that one expected of a stone. This, however, felt more like the cold-smooth surface of a cut jewel, not at all something you would expect to be in such an immaculately oval-shape form.

She speculated that though it was obviously worth a great deal of money, she would not be able to sell it to anyone here. They would either buy it for a ridiculous price, refuse it on claims of it being forged magically, or they would refuse her and then send men to cut her throat at night. She could always move elsewhere, to a large city where her burden might be better received, but she knew very well that it was dangerous outside the cities, and despite her lack of prospects for the future knew that the lifestyle she had here was more than slightly fortunate for one of her position. She could not afford to leave.

As such, she had somewhat of a conundrum. It would be possible to contact one of the wealthier businessmen, and see if they could arrange something for her. Speak to them without actually bringing the stone. Perhaps that way she could get an idea of the money it would sell for with the merchant thinking that she was merely delusional. Of course, there was the prevalent likelihood that she would merely be turned away due to her appearance and age.

Embra considered wasting the day on what would most likely gain nothing, and considered how long her current supplies would last. The smoked fish she'd stolen was quite large, and would probably sustain her for another day or two. There was still a little bread left, though it was stale, and she had a few coins left from her purchases.

There was nagging little voice in her head which wanted to keep the stone, because it was so beautiful and surely a possession to be prized, but she ignored it. Survival was more important.

But surely she should save it for a bad winter or a bad time, when she was in danger of starvation? It was a sensible idea, and one she decided to follow, though she thought it would still be worth getting an idea of how much the stone was worth, so she absent-mindedly wrapped it in cloths and left her cave for a long day of diplomatics.

There was a certain street allocated to the men who made the most profit, and had the most ships, and so on. Everyone knew of it, and she was no exception, but she had never had reason to go there before. Feeling abnormally out of place in the well-watched streets, Embra tried to keep unnoticed, and took the examples of the people around her as to whose door to knock on. She could not read, so the writing that some of them bore was all but meaningless to her.

The first two men refused to see her the moment they looked at her. The third had seemed more promising, but when she gave a short description of her stone's appearance and size, he scoffed with disgust and turned her out. It was the fourth, a man named Jeod, who dubiously allowed her through his door to give a summary of her item.

She described the size, the colour, and when he continued to look interested, its unnatural smoothness. There was something odd in his eyes as she painted its picture.

"...And you wish to sell this stone?" He inquired finally, face guarded and drawn in strange contours.

"When I need the money." She replied. "Not now. I wanted to know how much it was worth."

He was silent for a few seconds. "I'm afraid I won't be able to give you an accurate estimate unless you bring it to me. Any other merchant you ask will say the same."

She told him that she could not bring it to him, and he nodded. The reason was easy to understand.

"Then that is that." He sighed, a frown on his face. "Though I'm curious, where did you say you acquired this stone?"

"In the sea." Embra replied, deciding to give him some facet of the truth. "It was stuck in rocks, and I got it out."

"I see." There was another short pause. "I must ask, child, that if you do decide to sell the stone in the future, you bring it to me. I have a particular interest in items of that kind. Although, I do have another question...does it seem to be the right weight for its size, or a little too light?"

"Well, it's still heavy to me, but I think it is too light." She admitted, her own face curling into a frown. "And it sounded odd when I dropped it. Hollow, maybe." Embra examined his face closely. Whatever he had been looking for with his questions he had found. "Why?"

"I was merely confirming a few of my suspicions." He muttered distractedly. "Before you leave, is there any way I can contact you on this subject?"

"No." She told him bluntly.

"A shame. Well, then, remember what I said about coming to me to sell. I will offer the best price, I assure you. Keep it close and away from thieves. From what you have told me, this item seems particularly valuable."

Embra nodded to him, feeling somewhat satisfied with what she'd learned, and left, thanking him for his help.

It would be later, by means of discussions heard on the street, that Embra learned that Jeod was in fact a man who used the ships under his ownership to transport cargo, and that he should not have had any interest at all in the item she offered. As a result, the first seeds of suspicion with regards to the man were planted.

Discomfited, Embra returned to her cave, lifting the money from the pockets of several people as she went. She dropped the coin pouch through the rock and into the cave as always, knowing that the cliff would shield her from the eyes of the city and her dark clothing would shield her from the eyes of the fishermen. She ate a little of her provisions, and then took her broken harpoon out to the long rocks to look for fish. She was apparently much more fortunate in the day than in the evening, and succeeded in spearing three small (but nevertheless edible) fish in the course of the rest of the day. She would have to find some place to make a fire, as cooking them in her cave would create a smoke trail that would alert others to her location.

As an added bonus, Embra found another small, discarded fish left in the net of one of the returning fishermen. It was difficult to remove, but larger than the rest of her catch put together.

Embra had none of the provisions necessary to preserve a fish, so she would have to smoke it. It was a lengthy thing to do, and the necessity of a fire in its process made her nervous, but she couldn't afford to waste food by eating it all at once or allowing some of it to go bad.

Satisfied with how her day had played out, Embra returned to her dubious home for the night, catch and clothes stuffed down the roof-hole to prevent unnecessary hassle.

As soon as she looked around, though, Embra found with alarm that the stone was not where she had left it. A quick, panicked glance around the cave revealed its position lodged against a jut of rock in the water at the end of the cave, and she sighed with relief, moving to carefully dislodge it and replace its position in her bed. She had no idea how it had managed to roll down to the water, as she'd wrapped it quite thoroughly, but at any rate found herself lucky that it had not washed out to sea, especially since the Jeod man seemed to have such a suspicious interest in it. She was sure no one had followed her, but remained paranoid on the issue.

She devoured the remaining bread and some of the smoked fish she'd gotten the day before, and with a flash of satisfaction at the fact that she no longer had any stone to whittle, settled down to an early sleep, finding the smooth, cool surface of the stone more and more reassuring. She doubted she would have any problem sleeping that night.

Of course, the loss of her pet project (something which, although ridiculous, had been the only thing keeping her sane over the past months) left her feeling oddly reluctant to do anything else. Realistically, she should spend the free time foraging, but petulantly did not want to do that. Barring that logical route, she should at least find something else to do, but her attention was still oddly fixated by her unusual stone.

With a sigh, Embra pushed her musings away. They were interrupting her rest.

Oo0oO

That night, Embra was very comfortable. The smallness of her sleeping area might have made any other person claustrophobic, but it only made her feel secure. Added to that, her bedding was comfortable, she had a blanket, and curling around the oddly warm stone made it feel like she had a trusted companion with her to lessen her loneliness (for living on your own, hell-bent on survival, for months and years was not especially conductive to social practises). As a result, she slept very soundly through the night hours until she was quite rudely interrupted.

The interruption came in the form of the stone, which, despite all laws of possibility, had certainly kicked her in the stomach. In her just-woke-up alarm, Embra threw it away, coming to her senses just in time to prevent herself from losing it to the water. She drew it back up to her bed, heart beating quickly, feeling very confused.

She tried to inspect its surface for something strange, but her sleeping area was nowhere near the moon's dubious gift of light, and though she could swear there was something strange on the stone, she could not see what. So she reached out a hand to feel the area in question, and only her subconscious sensibility prevented her from screeching very loudly when she found a hole, through which something damp and moving nudged at her fingers. She practically threw it onto the bed, not wanting to let it disappear into the water or be anywhere near it, and retreated a few meters back, watching it with something resembling horror.

The light-reflecting quality of the stone served its purpose, though, and along with the odd sound of something breaking there was a fairly clear picture of the whole thing fracturing all over, splitting like glass.

Had it been broken when she dropped it, perhaps? No, that was incomprehensible. It had endured so much that she doubted it would have broken even if she took a sledgehammer to it. And then there was the question of whatever was inside it—whatever was moving. Rationality decreed that moving things tended to be alive, and that was what completed the picture in her mind.

Her stone was an egg. Something was inside it, and that something was now hatching.

Embra's mind raced. Any normal egg would have been very breakable. Any normal egg's occupant would not survive being carried around the ocean, encased in stone, and subjected to horribly cold temperatures. Whatever was hatching now was clearly not normal.

She hoped it wasn't something that would have a vested interest in eating her. At any rate, she reasoned, watching with sick fascination the undulating egg, whatever it was was a hatchling, and probably not dangerous.

Besides, even dangerous animals could be trained to be beneficial to humans if they were young enough. This one was being born, so she thought it could certainly be considered young. Maybe she could train it. It could protect her, maybe hunt for her. The thought excited her, but she pushed it away, as it wasn't very likely.

After a second, Embra made her choice, and moved forward to pull away a fragment of shell that the hatchling seemed to be having problems with. She noted that it was a centimetre thick, maybe more, and just as fantastically coloured on the inside as on the outside. She quickly pulled her hand back, mindful that something capable of breaking the strongest substance she'd ever encountered was mere inches away from her.

A high pitched squeak erupted from inside the breaking shell, shrill and petulant. This was followed by a peculiar series of light clicking sounds and muffled whimpers. It sounded like no bird she'd ever heard of, nor a snake, though she couldn't be entirely sure on that front, as she'd never been anywhere near the only snake she'd seen.

After a while, the odd volley of sounds stopped, concluded by an almost surprised whirr of sound. Accompanying the noise was the shine of something damp, and the form of the hatchling quivering out onto Embra's bedding, glistening with moisture.

As the cave was dark, she could not give any accurate impression of details or colours, but felt that she could say that the creature was quite long and thin in shape. At first she thought it _was_, in fact, a snake of some kind, but then she saw the short legs, and discounted her theory. A lizard, perhaps? She'd never seen one before, but was told that they were like shortened snakes with legs. But that didn't fit either, because along the creature's length were a number of odd protrusions, from which light glistened oddly. She could not tell in the lighting what the protrusions were, or what they looked like, but could see that a fair number of them were on its head and along its spine, and particularly at the tip of its tail.

It was currently laid out in the loose shape of an 's', though of course Embra did not know enough about writing to make the comparison. It was breathing heavily, as though recovering from something particularly strenuous, and after a moment began emitting a low, quiet keening sound, and struggled to its feet.

She could tell that it was perhaps a metre in length, but was oddly sinuous, like a thick-bellied serpent. Most of its length consisted of its tail, and an only slightly shorter length of body coiled between its front and back legs. A shorter portion yet connected its head to its shoulders, from which a fairly long face peered up at her in the darkness. It offered a short squeak to her, and then began moving its head. She realised it was sniffing. Embra deducted that it was hungry when it turned its head towards her food, and consequently thought that it might favour her more if she gave it food rather than letting it get to it itself.

She hoped it didn't require milk of any sort, because she had none. As far as she knew, though, things that hatched from eggs did not need milk, so she took the smallest of her fish and offered it tentatively to the creature. It sniffed it curiously, and then, in a surprisingly quick movement, took it in its mouth, raising its neck upwards, and swallowed it whole. It began clicking again, sounding content and certainly more satisfied, and looked up at her expectantly.

Embra eyed her food stores reluctantly. She would have to do some serious thieving if she wanted to have enough food later, with how much this creature was already eating. She hoped it would eat less later, and its appetite was due to having been born. With a sigh, Embra held out the second of the small fish she had caught. This one was slightly larger, and would hopefully fill up the animal.

This fish disappeared the same way as the first, and Embra attempted to check for teeth in its mouth, but the light was too poor to tell. This time, to her relief, the creature seemed satisfied, and with something that looked like a yawn, shuffled around at the side of her bedding and lowered its body. It was not intending to sleep yet, shown by its neck and head, which were angled towards her. For a while, girl and creature watched each other, silently, both apparently contemplating their next move. Then the thing got up, and shuffled awkwardly towards her, coming into slightly better view as it approached. She noted that it was of two primary colours: blue and orange, and that the orange seemed restricted to its underbelly and a few choice markings along its body.

It gave another sound, one which sounded oddly like damp rubber on damp rubber. A kind of squeak which she was certain should not come from anything alive. It approached her hand, which was still held out, frozen, from where she'd previously offered a fish. It nuzzled her fingers for a moment, nostrils flaring, and Embra wondered if it wanted more food. Its damp skin felt almost rubbery.

Embra had begun to relax, assured that the creature didn't seem to be attacking her, and watched with an odd fascination as its pink tongue licked all the fishy flavour from her skin. She had been half way through a thought on the subject of its likeability when, suddenly, it opened its mouth and bit into a hand.

With a screech, she drew back, and the creature scrambled away, keening with alarm. Embra clutched at her injured palm, which was giving off a dribble of blood, and detected two impossibly small puncture wounds, created by two needle-sharp teeth, in the middle. It was throbbing oddly, not at all like a normal wound, and she feared that the creature was poisonous.

The feeling increased, and she began to lose feeling in her hand, something which caused her to panic. In her frenzy, she didn't even notice that the creature had retreated to a far corner of the cave, crouching anxiously in an alcove with her other belongings, angled neatly away from the knife.

In the midst of the numbness, the oddest sensation suddenly rushed from the wound. As though some form of liquid ice had entered her bloodstream, something gushed with terrifying speed along her veins, beyond by far where the numbness extended, and in a matter of seconds her body was consumed by the thrall of a deep, overwhelming pain. It was too cold to move. Too cold to think. Too cold, even, to breathe, and Embra realised distantly that her breath had halted. She was frozen in place, hand clutching hand, like an ice sculpture of agony.

And then, quick as it had come, the cold disappeared, and breath and warmth and life returned to her body. Her next few mouthfuls of air came greedily, and quickly, and with a wide-eyed kind of terror. Suffocation was one of the worst kinds of death, and the prospect honestly horrified her.

Suddenly remembering the cause of her distress, Embra's eyes darted around the cave in search of the creature, and found it watching her, without movement or sound, from one of her alcoves. It didn't seem to be aggressive any longer. Why had it bitten her?

After a moment, the thing raised itself and inched its way slowly, cautiously towards her, its clumsy newborn steps taken with attention to her reaction. It kept its body low to the ground, especially its neck, and she wondered it it was some variety of submissive posture.

Still, she didn't like that it was approaching. The short effect of that bite still had her disoriented, and Embra found herself immensely cautious of the needle-teeth that the thing concealed in its jaws. "Stay back," She warned it, tone low and heavy. It paused, hesitated, and then continued at a slower pace. She scowled, heart at once thudding more quickly. Of course. It was an animal, and a newborn one at that. It wouldn't understand her.

So she searched her throat for an appropriately animalistic sound. In vague imitation of the volatile dogs of the merchants, she grated out a crude approximation of a growl in her throat. It was recognisable, she thought, as a threatening gesture, but she nevertheless grimaced at its inaccuracy.

If she'd had access to her knife, the ordeal would have been far less terrifying. As it was, the unknown creature (possibly venomous and probably dangerous) was moving towards her from the very alcove she stored her knife, among other things, in. And it was only getting closer.

It wouldn't be possible to get past the creature to the exit, either, as that was nearly on the opposite side of the cave. The thing was fast, it had proven that when it lashed out at her.

Out of options, Embra scrambled back, onto her bedding area where the eggshell was, still gleaming, and still wet. She distantly recognised that she would need to rinse her sheets. They were covered in fluid.

When the thing continued approaching, closer and closer, until it was a mere metre away, she held out two hands, fingers splayed widely in a way she knew would make her seem more dangerous. It paused, looking up at her. The creature gave off a subdued squeak, and then shuffled almost despondently out of her path, and instead turned to the side, towards the broken fragments of its egg.

She watched, heart pounding in her throat, as it coiled around the shell and began licking it, removing every trace of yolk that might still be there. Maybe it was still hungry? It continued in that way for five minutes or so, licking every fragment clean, and even attempted to pry the fluid from the sheets, but immediately abandoned that endeavour when they proved inedible. Embra steadily calmed down, apprehensive of what it would do when it was finished.

When at last the eggshell was dry, with nothing but its blue lustre to show for its former shape, the creature turned back to her, and approached again, this time less cautious and more confidently.

Jarred by its sudden movement, a sound alike a hiss erupted from her throat, but it was not a sound natural to humans, so the noise was wet with a gurgle of saliva. At the same time, she lashed out with one hand, fingers ghosting quickly in front of the creature's feet in warning and then snapping back to be held against her chest.

It staggered back, motions graceless and awkward, and it fell on its side with an alarmed volley of rubbery shrieks. It sounded more surprised than afraid, and Embra wondered why it seemed so intent on approaching her, even when she was clearly larger and a threat to its safety. Surely any animal, even a baby, would have enough sense to retreat.

But then it began to give out a soft, quiet series of almost confused sounds, and Embra ran her previous thought over in her head. It was a baby. She'd fed it. She'd been there when it hatched. She might even have been the cause of its hatching, as her body heat could have been the catalyst to its awakening.

It was entirely possible that the thing saw her as a parent, and wasn't actually trying to harm her.

She considered the slow, cautious way it had been approaching, and its clumsy, awkward manner. And then she began to feel foolish, and slightly guilty as well. The creature's low sounds had become despondent, and she mused that it seemed strangely adept at conveying feelings with its animal voice.

Hesitantly, Embra held out her arm, slowly, with her fingers held together, the opposite of the last time. She was now attempting to appear as a lesser threat. She then remembered that the hand she was holding out was the one that had been bitten, and for a moment, reconsidered subjecting it to the possible danger of the creature's teeth.

Until it raised its head, the black shadow of its eyes widening, and pushed its muzzle forwards into her outstretched hand with an oddly happy series of clicking, whirring noises.

She sat motionless as it nuzzled her hand, the skin bearing a light rubbery texture beneath its smoothness, and she observed that it seemed to be waterproof. Perhaps some variety of sea creature that was capable of breathing on land. It would explain its appetite for fish.

The tip of its muzzle touched briefly to the bite, and she flinched at the violation of the raw flesh, but then it drew back, away from her hand, and observed her with an inquisitively cocked head. Suddenly, though, it opened its mouth, and she caught a brief glimpse of the points inside, but then it closed, giving off a somewhat squeaky gust of breath, and she realised it was yawning.

It wasn't a night creature, then.

Apparently taking the contact as permission to approach, the creature waddled forwards as soon as it had finished yawning, slumping against the tense outline of her leg. While it was long, and of a moderately thin and sinuous build, Embra noted that when coiled it seemed very small, and she wondered how much larger it might grow.

Its skin was warm on hers, and when it appeared to be getting comfortable, she decided to move. She didn't want it falling asleep on her when she was in such a tense position. It released an indignant churl at the disturbance, but obediently got to its four feet and scrambled after her as she moved to gather the eggshell to move from her bed. She didn't want to get rid of it, as it had not lost its beauty, and she thought it might still be worth something. She placed it in one of the closer alcoves, one she used for her money and valuables, and keeping her eye on the creature all thee while, folded over the wet areas of her bedding and attempted to find a comfortable position, curling under the sheets. She half closed her eyes, observing the animal through a façade of sleep, and waited to see what it would do.

Certainly, it was nothing malevolent that came to her. The creature merely shuffled over, nestled against her side, and planted its head down on its feet with a yawning sigh, seeming infinitely content to be falling asleep at her side, where the thin sheet did not obscure the exchange of body heat.

After a minute or so, the steady pattern of the creature's breathing implied that it was asleep. It didn't seem aggressive at all, quite the opposite, so why had it bitten her? Embra felt the wound with her other hand, pressing lightly on the puncture, and found to her surprise that it actually hurt very little, as though it were already well on its way to healing.

Though her new companion didn't seem to wish her any ill will, and though she was tired, Embra ventured nowhere near sleep for a great length of time. The feeling of another life form breathing beside her was as unfamiliar as it was reassuring, and she still could not bring herself to let her guard down so thoroughly beside an unknown creature which had attacked her before. She initially resolved to stay awake the whole night, but that resolve quickly died, and without any knowledge as to when it happened, Embra slipped unwillingly into sleep.

Oo0oO

Well, that's the first chapter of the rewrite complete. Sorry it took so long. As you can see, our main female protagonist has a different name. Our main male protagonist will also have a different name. Themes will be more complicated and thought out and I have established the traits and abilities of the sea-dragon species. You'll just have to wait and see what they are ;)

-Darktayle


	2. The Patron Beast

Oo0oO

**Shattered Reef**

**Chapter 2**

The Patron Beast

Oo0oO

As always, Embra awoke the moment light began filtering in through the water and the mostly-covered hole in the roof. She yawned, feeling the typical lethargy that came with awakenings, and stretched out her body as best she could in the alcove where she made her bed. The movement, however, resulted in her dislodging something long and warm at her side. Something that shouldn't be there. Embra froze immediately, whipping her head around to look, and then stared at the partially curled serpentine _thing_ for several moments, remembering what had happened during the night. As young creatures typically did, the hatchling seemed to be sleeping quite soundly, despite her disturbing it. She could certainly see it far better than she could when it first hatched, in near complete darkness, but the morning light made inspecting it far easier.

To get a better view, Embra peeled herself from her damp covers and reached up through the hole in her ceiling, brushing away the seaweed she'd gathered there to hide it. More light immediately filled the den, and Embra blinked several times to become accustomed to it before turning back to the strange creature that had hatched in her makeshift home.

She'd been correct, as far as colouring went. Its underside was a startlingly vivid shade of orange, tinted a little in the hue of the coral she'd seen in some merchants' jewellery. The rest of its body, including the majority of its legs, was blue—a shade somewhere between that of the sky and the ocean on its brighter days. The line where the two colours met, however, was anything but even. It was, rather, quite jagged, with some flecks of the orange underneath spotting the blue just above their division. On its face, as well, the orange seemed to have rebelled and formed a large marking around each of its eyes, which contained a few rough splodges of blue.

It was quite small, really, but considering it had only just hatched (and most things hatching from eggs were far smaller than this) she was sure it was probably going to get quite big. Its massive eyes, far too big for its head, supported that theory. In all, the creature was probably between one and two metres in length, the largest portion of which being its tail, followed by the intersection between its back and front legs, followed by its neck. The thing was disproportionately long, and really looked a good deal like an exceptionally thick serpent with limbs attached. Well, it would, if not for the additional features.

Between its eyes, beginning on the middle of the forehead, a peculiar series of spines ascended, coated in the same rubbery blue skin as the body and connected by thin membranes of bright orange. The shortest two were no more than two centimetres in length, but the longest one was a good eight, at least. They rose like a crest along its neck, and descended into the skin a short distance from its shoulders. A little way into its back, however, they rose again and persisted to nearly the end of its tail. After some inspection. Embra decided they looked a fair bit like fins, and wondered again if her creature was meant for the sea. Similar spines, although there were only six on each side, extended from the sides of its head to form an odd sort of ruff with their orange membranes. The bottom two of those spines, she noticed, were orange rather than blue, being situated within the scope of the orange underside.

Lastly, from what she could tell (the thing was apparently using its own tail as a pillow, making it a little difficult to see), the entire tail seemed to be built as some variety of paddle. While it bore a gratuitous line of the vertical fin-like spines at the very top of the tail, it had another set on either side that were, contrarily, horizontal, and the membranes were considerably thicker. They lengthened towards the middle of the tail and shortened towards its end, at which they abruptly lengthened to massive proportions and formed a large paddle there at the tip, in the vague shape of a rounded kite. Rather than being sharp and thin at the tip like the others, these spines were thick and rounded, the orange membranes between them a good half-centimetre thick, as opposed to the very thin membranes along the spine and around the head.

Done with her thorough inspection of the creature, Embra sat back and pondered what to do with it. It seemed to like her, the perplexing bite excluded, but if it continued to eat at the rate it had done last night she was certain that she'd not be able to keep it. Feeding it would be too difficult—she could barely fill her own stomach, let alone that of some ravenous thing that she'd hatched.

She wondered what it could be, that its egg had survived being encased in stone for probably upwards of a hundred years. Most eggs, like bird eggs, needed to be sat on or the things inside died. Plus they were easy to break. Her egg matched neither of those characteristics.

Embra sighed, and looked at the hatchling. She didn't want to leave to go foraging while it was there, because she was worried it might leave the cavern while she was gone and get lost or eaten or something. She supposed she could use her emergency money to just buy food, and then return, rather than go to the trouble of stealing it. She did, however, have enough food left over to feed herself for the rest of the day, but certainly not the creature. It had eaten all the fish she caught already. Absently, she reached over and began picking out bits of shining eggshell that she'd missed. She would probably be able to sell it, since it was so pretty. People might want it for jewellery. She stowed it into her valuables alcove, and then decided to avoid the process of waiting for the serpent-thing to wake by waking it herself. She did this by nudging it several times in the side.

The creature's eyes opened sleepily, revealing large irises of a startling ice-blue. It blinked at her slowly, releasing a soft questioning noise. When she didn't answer, it unfurled itself and stretched out, much like she'd done earlier, displaying its surprising length and bright colours. It looked too long for its legs, and its head was disproportionately large. She assumed it would grow out of that, but for now it made it move with a distinct lack of grace. The thing was rather clumsy, if the way it stumbled as it went to approach her was any indication.

Embra knelt down as it came closer, still a little on edge but mostly willing to trust it wouldn't hurt her. If it had wanted, it could have hurt her while she was asleep, but it hadn't. She supposed it was just a baby, anyway.

The creature looked up at her inquisitively, blinking a little as its eyes adjusted to the light. Its pupils thinned, and she noticed for the first time that they were slit-shaped, like a cat's. It crooned, dropping its head on her knees. After a moment of hesitation, Embra reached out to run her fingers over its warm skin, unable to suppress a smile when it immediately leaned into the contact and began chirping happily.

_It really makes the strangest sounds,_ Embra thought to herself, a little fondly, then sighed at the indication of her apparent attachment to the creature. Feeling a little hungry, she leaned over, stretching to relieve an alcove of its meagre food, and swallowed it down quickly. While her stomach felt fuller, the sense of hunger, oddly, did not go away. Instead...

Embra frowned down at the hatchling creature, wondering if it _was_ hungry and she wasn't just imagining things. The way it looked up at her pitifully and released a rather pathetic wail as it snapped its mouth open and shut soundly answered that question, and Embra inwardly groaned. How was she going to feed it? She could, for now, buy something, but would it wander if she left?

Well, there was no way around it. She removed the creature's head from her knee, retrieved a handful of coins, and began to crawl over to where the cave's most accessible entrance was, and scowled when it plodded after her on awkward legs. "Stay here," She ordered it, not really expecting it to understand, and shoved it gently away from her to emphasise her point. It chirped questioningly and, again, tried to follow. "_Stay."_ She insisted again, rising briefly to pick it up (it was fairly heavy, but most of the difficulty carrying it came from its being so long) and plant it in her bed. This time it seemed to get the idea, and only made a series of clicking sounds at her as she left.

She hoped it would stay put, but just in case, she'd hurry.

The fishermen wouldn't be coming back in for a while yet, so Embra exhausted her coins on the cheapest food she could find, that would keep her going for a while. There wasn't nearly enough to buy for the creature too, she knew. Shortly after stowing it in a very thin alley to pick up later, she began the risky manoeuvre of sneaking into the back of the butcher's shop. This was, initially, accomplished by her using the tip of her knife to carefully pick the lock. She wasn't especially practised in such things, so it took her a while, but eventually she was able to slip through the door and quietly close it most of the way behind her, taking shelter behind the immense carcass of a pig, strung up by a gleaming hook from the ceiling. She'd never attempted anything like this before, as the intimidation factor of all the knives and blood had always been a little too intense for her, but now...

Heart beating like a war-drum in her chest, Embra listened for the voice of the butcher, conducting business in the front. They placed their orders, and upon hearing them, the butcher ambled into the back room where Embra hid, where took hold of several bloody cuts of beef and returned to his customers.

The moment he closed the door to the back room, Embra bolted from her cover. On one wall, a wooden pole nailed into the wall bore several hooks from which dead game birds hung. She liberated one of those fat, feathery masses, then took under her arm a long dried sausage. The last thing she claimed was two large steaks before she rushed to the back door, opened it, and closed it quiet as possible behind her. The butcher would be returning to the back room any second now, she knew, so Embra squashed herself into a side alley in the mere space of seconds. It was several minutes and a good amount of distance before Embra could bring herself to relax. Somewhat sensibly, she'd always avoided stealing from the butcher, because the threatening way he fingered knives as she passed had always scared her. Not long before, though, she'd survived an encounter with his stall where she even got away with one of his knives, and that had served to dull her terror at least a little.

Her hands were bloody from the meat, she noticed, and Embra eyed the alleys around her. A girl carrying large quantities of meat would be immediately labelled a thief, she knew, so she had to find something to carry it in.

It took several minutes of searching, but eventually she found a small, hole-ridden sack sewn of rough, ropey material discarded in one alley. The holes weren't big enough for anything to fall out of, so it suited her needs. She piled the meat into it, hoping the blood didn't soak through before she got back home, and then navigated her way to the street where she'd hidden her earlier purchases. However, she had not anticipated what she saw there.

Some stray dog was snapping at the food she'd bought earlier. It hadn't touched the bread, but several of the dried meats were already gone. Embra debated fight or flight for several seconds, before raising her knife and making a decision. It was by no means a small dog, but it was not large either, and much like her it was thin and bedraggled from street living. She flew at it, making aggressive noises as best as her human voice box could, and dealt it a small slash on its flank as a warning. It backed away, yelping in alarm, and stood still for a moment. Knowing it was probably deciding whether or not to attack, she rushed at it again, cutting it over the shoulder and giving it a kick to the chest.

The dog made its decision, and fled, whining.

Embra sighed with relief, and piled the remaining food into the same sack as the meat. She then hauled it over her shoulder and squeezed through the streets towards the sea. She felt a glimmer of pity for the dog, and was relieved she hadn't had to kill it. In a way, it was a lot like her, just trying to survive.

...But she was responsible for more than herself, now.

She received a good few suspicious glares for the sack over her shoulder, but Embra escaped to the beach's misty rocks without incident. As always, she approached the hole in her roof and cleared away the concealing seaweed, peering inside anxiously. She sighed with relief when she caught a glimpse of the brightly-coloured serpent-thing staring up at her in surprise. It was still there.

The bag was too thick to fit down the hole, she found, so Embra irritably removed the duck that she'd pilfered and stuffed it in, head first. Without the fat bird adding to its bulk, she fit the rest of the bag in without much difficulty. Embra hid the hole and wheeled around, plunging into the water.

Upon entering the cave, she found her creature sniffing curiously at the food in the middle of the cave. Its attention quickly shifted to her, though, and it greeted her happily with a variety of its strangest sounds and a pleased head-butt to her outstretched hand. Unbidden, a smile came to her face. It really was too soon for her to get attached to the creature, but it was happening anyway. After a moment of consideration, Embra decided to sacrifice the duck to her creature, if it would eat it. She had no idea how to gut a bird, so it was the simplest choice to make. First, though, she wanted its feathers. They'd probably make good bedding.

Embra lightly pushed the highly curious creature's nose away from the bird, and gathered it as well as the rest of the haul into the top of the cavern. She set the sack next to her, which the creature began sniffing interestedly at the smell of blood, and put the duck in her lap. Soon after, she was (somewhat viciously) pulling large handfuls of feathers away from it, in some cases savaging the skin beneath and leaving it a bloody mess. Her work was by no means neat, but it ended with her having a sizeable addition to her comfort and the creature having a lot less work to do.

Triumphantly, Embra presented her creature with the savaged bird. "Eat." She instructed, vowing to cause it bodily harm if it decided that meat was not to its liking.

She was not to be disappointed, though, because after a few seconds of contemplation, the hatchling released a delighted croon and snatched the bird from her hand. Embra watched, fascinated, as it hauled the dead fowl over to a corner of the cave, curling its long body around it and tearing large mouthfuls of flesh, and fat. It might be a baby, but it was certainly a meat-eater, and its teeth were _sharp_. She knew that first-hand.

Her creature, apparently, was ravenous, if the way it was eating was any indication. Within moments she heard the crunch of bones and winced, sparing a worry that the bone shards might get caught in its throat, but it seemed to be managing perfectly well. It was eating through the ribcage and had, just that second, begun gulping down a medley of duck-sized internal organs. The paddle-thing at the end of the creature's tail, through the entire meal, was flicking here and there with intent, reminding Embra oddly of the twitching tailtip of a cat.

The meal was finished so quickly that, in just over five minutes, there was nothing but a few feathers, a chewed duck head, and two webbed legs to show for what had once been there. That, and a puddle of blood, which the hatchling was eagerly lapping up.

"...I don't even know what you _are._" Embra murmured as she watched her creature. At the sound of her voice, it turned its head and blinked large eyes at her, licking its gory chops. Something itched at her mind, a question shaped like a tendril that nudged into her thoughts. Instinctively, Embra rose a hand to her temple, wondering at the strange feeling, and stared at her creature. It came again; something that felt like a question, something that was a blurred, simple form of _what?_ projected into her thoughts. Tentatively, she nudged at the question with her own thoughts. It felt distinctly strange, doing such things with her mind. She wasn't used to it.

Slightly disturbed, Embra looked at the almost comical sight of a duck head and two feet on the floor, and wondered if her creature was still hungry. She withdrew one of the cuts of beef she'd liberated from the butcher, and offered it to the creature. Its eyes widened as it considered the meat, then it snatched it away and settled down with one of its front feet over it, contentedly pulling bits off and snapping them down. It ate at a much slower pace, this time, which she supposed meant that it was almost full. Embra sighed at its appetite. If not even a full-grown bird could satisfy it for a single meal, she had no idea how she'd be able to feed it. Somehow, though, the idea of getting rid of it already seemed unthinkable, despite the impracticality of raising something that ate at least three times what she did in a single sitting, while still a hatchling. She certainly wouldn't be able to feed it when it got bigger.

_...I need to find out what it is._ With that thought in mind, Embra wiped her bloody hands on the sack and grabbed her knife, slipping it into her sleeve.

She was going to do some investigating.

Oo0oO

Embra stared at the library with no small amount of frustration. Naturally, a library was the best place to obtain information, but even if she could read she doubted anyone would let a child as dirty as her enter there.

She both wanted and needed to find out what the creature she'd hatched was, but there seemed no way of learning.

Irritated and discouraged, Embra wandered aimlessly around the streets for a while, eventually settling near the grand citadel to think.

_Well, it looks like it's a sea creature, but it can breathe on land and doesn't dry out like a dolphin would. It's nothing normal, or its egg would have broken or died ages ago. Something magical, maybe? Like a dragon? But dragons have wings, everyone knows that..._ Embra mulled it over, and then, abruptly, her thoughts snapped to Jeod. With his interest in the 'stone' she'd described...and he'd asked if she thought it was _hollow_, like an egg would be...

Maybe Jeod knew.

But if he did, and the creature _was_ something rare and important, would he try to steal it? Maybe kill her so she wouldn't tell anyone about it? She shivered, and resolved to go nowhere near Jeod unless she'd completely exhausted all avenues.

Sighing, Embra stood to change location. The shadow of the citadel fell far indeed, and she was starting to get cold. She admired it as she went—while the whole city had been built for defence, the artisans had long since established their works on the stone. Great gargoyles and oppressive statues wrought in stone overlooked much of the city's centre. She looked up briefly at one statue, depicting a great twisting creature with snapping teeth and eyes of stone fury, and admired its detail. That she'd never be able to do anything like that was a fact she was certain of. Feeling slightly overwhelmed by the largeness of the buildings and the statues, she made to leave, taking one last look at that fiercely detailed sculpture...

...and froze.

She whipped around and stared, trying to get a better look at it.

The statue was of something that, at first glance, looked a lot like a writhing serpent, its lower half coiled in water and its upper half rearing up. But, beyond that, there were legs on it. Legs with feet with five toes, complete with wicked talons. The head was far too long for a snake's, and the shape was all wrong. That alone wouldn't have meant much, but...

Along the length of the stone creature were spines connected by membranes, flared up like the hood of a cobra about to strike. It was shockingly familiar.

Embra gaped at the statue for several minutes, unable to believe that she may have found some answers by pure chance. There was writing at the bottom of the statue, but of course, she couldn't read it.

Overcome by shock and inspiration, Embra looked around and then ran to intercept the path of two scholars. "Excuse me, sirs!" She gasped, looking up at them pleadingly. "But could you please tell me what that is?" She pointed at the statue, trying to be as polite as possible.

The one on the left snorted, and made to walk by her. "We have no time for urchins such as yourself," He snapped at her, but stopped when his companion laid a hand upon his shoulder.

"We are not so busy that we cannot share some of our knowledge," He claimed, then turned to smile genially at Embra. He was of advanced age, his wispy hair between grey and white. He, like his companion, wore glasses, with a glint of some strange curiosity behind them. It was slightly ridiculous how well he personified what Embra had always imagined a scholar typically looked like. "That statue, child, is of a creature of myth that our oldest records called the 'Serpente of Oceanes', or a Sea-Serpent."

"...They aren't real?" Embra asked after a moment, completely intent on the scholar's words. The other one snorted derisively, though.

"Perhaps. The records we have from those times aren't quite detailed enough to be certain." He smiled. "What we _do_ know is that many, many centuries ago, the first settlers here were highly superstitious and did believe in these Serpents. At any rate, they were afraid enough of them that, for a time, they worshipped the beasts to try to appease them. Such times are long past, but they have left their mark." The scholar glanced fondly at the statue. "Even today, the Sea-Serpent is considered the patron beast of Teirm. Some people in this city even believe that the Serpents will protect their ships in the sea, if they honour them."

Embra took a moment to absorb the information. "So there aren't any actually in the seas?" She persisted. "What could they do? And how big did they get?" Both, she felt, were highly relevant questions.

"This is keeping us too long." The other muttered irritably. His friend jovially ignored him.

"No one in memory has seen a Serpent, so we mostly believe that they are mere legends." He replied cheerfully. "I'm not sure what their abilities were, other than outstanding physical strength, but the old texts seem to associate them with rough waters and stormy seas. As for their size...well, it is said that a fully-grown Serpent was more than capable of crushing a massive ship to pieces in the same way that a snake constricts a mouse it catches." His smile faltered a little. "Unfortunately, my companion is right. We really must be on our way. If you have further questions, perhaps you could find me here in...another week, I believe. I shall be here around noon, at that time." He nodded to her. "Good day, child." And, with that, they were gone; the unpleasant scholar on the left mumbling darkly as they went.

Embra stared after them for a while, head swimming, and eventually turned into the street that would take her home.

Oo0oO

Her creature had settled down on the bed when she returned, and looked up excitedly when she arrived, greeting her with rapid clicks and whirs in its throat. She sat down beside it and obligingly scratched around its head, smiling at the blissful crooning that the attention elicited. She observed its long proportions, the fins, the tail clearly designed for thrusting water. "Sea-Serpent, then?" She murmured, and it clicked questioningly, at the same time that another of the strange question-tendrils pushed into her mind. She hesitated, and followed it to its source, becoming a little alarmed when she felt her thoughts somehow leave the confines of her mind. Her own probe clung briefly to the one it had followed, then moved along it like a bridge to arrive somewhere completely foreign. Certainly a mind, but it was incredibly fast and chaotic, colours and images and sounds passing almost too quickly to read. Prevalent, though, was an image of herself, seen from in front of her.

Embra stared at what was apparently a mythical creature, suddenly certain that she'd somehow contacted its mind.

She was distracted from her shock by the Serpent posing another of its questioning tendrils. It certainly was a curious thing. She thought for a moment, and then projected an image of the statue she'd seen. It squeaked in surprise, eyes wide, and as she held the image she could feel the creature prodding it with vigour, obviously spotting the resemblance. Worried that it might think it was real, she projected the sensation of cold, lifeless stone at it, layering it over the image of the statue, to make sure it understood. She received something that felt like disappointment, and knew that she'd been understood.

How intelligent _was_ the creature, anyway?

She retreated back to her own mind, and remembered the scholar's words about the size of Sea-Serpents. She pictured one of the big cargo ships she saw in the harbour sometimes, the really massive ones, and then she imagined a version of her creature big enough to coil around it and crush it to pieces. That image and the sight of the rather small and weak creature before her were a little hard to reconcile. There would be no way for her to keep a creature so large, at any rate.

She supposed she could live as a hermit on Sharktooth island. Embra snorted at the image, and shook it away. _As if._

She looked at her creature, considering it. She didn't know why she was already so fond of it, or why getting rid of it seemed such an incomprehensible idea. She supposed she could release it into the sea when it got too big, but even that idea was unpalatable. The Serpent, if its reaction to that thought was any indication, apparently agreed with her.

Where had it come from, anyway? A supposed mythical creature, that had existed thousands of years ago...perhaps they were made extinct, like the dragons, and this one's egg had been the only one to survive, encased in the waste of the sea until she pulled it out. Even then, why had it hatched now, and not before it gained its rocky layering? There were too many questions.

The biggest concern, for the moment, was food. If it didn't start hunting for itself soon, there was no way she'd be able to keep it. No way at all.

Embra sighed, and a familiar series of clicks replied to the sound. Suddenly, looking at the Serpent, she realised there was another mystery to the creature, one that simply hadn't occurred to her before then. She didn't know what sex it was. Well, that was a question whose answer she could probably find. Embra leaned forwards and picked the Serpent up by its lengthy middle, evoking a squeak of surprise from it, and peered between its back legs. She put it down a second later.

The Serpent was male, then.

Feeling mollified by the proof that she at least knew something about the Serpent, Embra stood and went to leave the cave again. The fishermen should be back by now, and she needed to check if they'd left anything in their nets.

The affair had to, of course, be conducted with stealth. Even if what she found had been left behind, the men wouldn't take well to her stealing it.

She slipped into one of the smaller boats when no one was looking, and poked around the little net. She found nothing inside, but underneath, to her delight, there was a perfectly intact harpoon left unattended. She immediately pulled it out and bolted down the beach before anyone could see her. A harpoon that actually worked would make her fishing exploits much easier. It was more than a little big for her, but she'd manage somehow.

The hubbub of ship hands attending to the boats meant that it was unlikely she'd be able to return to the harbour, so she stowed her harpoon with the broken one she used as a spear, and concentrated on trying to figure out her Sea-Serpent.

The thing always seemed pleased to see her, which was heartening, but being only a day old she had no idea of how he would progress. How fast would he grow? Would he leave when he was old enough? Would he start to hunt for itself soon? She had no way of knowing. He was a supposedly mythical creature, and as such she supposed information on them would be scarce.

Shortly afterwards, she went to sleep for the second time not alone. When she awoke the next morning, however, her Serpent seemed to be discovering the pool of water at the end of the cave. He never strayed out into the sea, but it became a frequent thing to see him in the water. It was, she supposed, one of the only things she could have anticipated.

Oo0oO

"You really need to control your appetite," Embra told the keening creature crossly, four days later. The Serpent had visibly grown since his hatching, having developed at least two metres in length, and a little in height. If he continued at the rate he had been growing at, he would be double his initial size in three days time, making his incredible appetite easy to understand. Every day the thing ate more, and she was so busy foraging for him that she was barely able to keep herself fed. The butcher had caught onto her tricks after two repetitions of her earlier stunt and it was only barely that she escaped without injury. A few fish had been freed from the fishers' nets, but they were quick to chase her away. The new harpoon was a challenge to use, but the sheer speed it fired at added a few more fish to the supply.

However, with the Serpent's voracious appetite, she'd been required to devote more and more time to finding food for him and less finding it for herself. The dried sausages she'd stolen were lasting well, but she had spent all her money and her recent activity was making all the shopkeepers wary of her presence.

The day before, she'd stolen a small crate of fish from the fishmonger's stall while he was distracted, but getting away with it in her arms was one of the hardest escapes she'd ever made. Her Serpent had certainly enjoyed the fish, though.

Now, however, she had nothing to feed him. And he was hungry.

"I don't have anything." She mumbled irritably, while trying to ignore the plaintive cries he was giving her while butting his head into her side. Eventually, she sighed. "I suppose I'll be going fishing again." It was late, later than she was usually out, and it would be hard to see the fish in the water soon. If only the Serpent could catch his own fish...

...There was an idea. She could bring the Serpent with her and try to teach him. He hadn't been outside before, but the coming darkness and the fog combined meant that there was no danger of being seen.

Mind made up, Embra grabbed both the harpoon and the spear, and prodded her Serpent. "Come with me," She told him, and felt the weight of his thoughts press into her mind. _What?_ Came one of the only four words he seemed to know (the other three were 'hungry', 'no', and 'yes'). She'd been surprised the first time he had thought words at her instead of feelings or images, a mere day before, but had more or less learned to expect the unexpected when it came to her Serpent. From then on she'd tried to talk to it more, to perhaps expand its vocabulary, but she wasn't accustomed to talking much. It was strange.

"Follow me," She said again, impressing the image of her ducking through the water out of the cave into his mind. "We're going out."

He took a moment to digest that concept, and immediately a concept of excitement so vivid it made her dizzy overflowed from his thoughts. A flurry of elated clicks and whirs followed, so rapidly that it seemed a rolling stream of eccentric noise. Embra smiled a little, and ducked out of the cave, coming out of the water on the other side and shaking her head free of the water. A moment later, the Serpent emerged as well, cutting through the water like a knife, and he raised his head to stare at Embra excitedly.

She climbed out of the shallows, grabbing her hair in both hands and twisting it to wrench more water out, and proceeded onto the rocks. "Come on," She commanded, stepping over the rough rock and onto the pebbled beach.

Her Sea-Serpent reluctantly slid out of the water and followed her over the black stone. Since his hatching, he seemed to have gained better control of his limbs, and no longer stumbled when he walked. As he moved, the long stretches of his body twisted like a snake in the water, making him really quite fascinating to watch. He was, if the legends were to believe, built for the water, but he seemed to manage remarkably well on solid ground.

After waiting to make sure he was keeping up, Embra climbed up onto a larger stretch of rock, connected to the cliff, which led quite far out into the water, making it as good a place to fish as she would ever find. The Serpent struggled to climb up for several moments, but then his claws (she noted that he had six of them; five on his five toes and one at his heel for grip) clamped down, their wicked black points granting him all the purchase he would ever need. A brief image of the statue's rapier teeth and claws came to mind, and Embra shivered, wondering if this small (though rapidly growing) creature would ever become so fierce.

Once the Sea-Serpent had joined her atop the rock, following it out to sea was a simple matter, though Embra went carefully to avoid slipping in the dark. Through the fog and the dark of night, only the brief glow of the shrouded moon, and the fading twilight blue on the horizon, guided her passage now. She was sure that even _seeing_ fish, let alone catching them, would be difficult in this darkness.

In short time, she had reached the edge of the rocky outcropping, and knelt down to squint at the waters only a short distance away from her perch. It was at times like this she was grateful the rock was so rough; if it were smooth, she would have slipped into the depths and drowned long ago. If she really looked, she thought she could see the silhouettes of fish in the water, but it was too dark to really tell. She cursed softly, attracting the attention of the Serpent which had settled beside her. He made an inquisitive noise. In response, she pushed an image of the dark water, her desire to find some fish, and a feeling of irritation into his mind.

Embra felt the Serpent ponder that for a moment, and then, hesitantly, a much clearer image of the water edged into her mind. She blinked with surprise at how much more defined it was; apparently, the creature's sight was a good bit better than her own. But not, still, made for the dark. Details were easier to make out, but the fish...

She latched onto her creature's mind, eliciting a surprised squeak from him, and through a venue of pure instinct dove into the experiences of his sight. Gently, she directed him to look at the water instead of at her, and after a pause, he did so. She inspected the waves through his eyes, marvelling at the greater intensity of colours and contrast between light and dark. A moment passed, and then she saw a shape in the water. Triumphantly, she grabbed at the Serpent's thoughts and shoved them in its direction, displaying the silhouette of the fish for him. To clarify, she summoned a picture of her spearing a fish in daylight from her own mind. A flicker of understanding sounded in his mind, and he pushed her out.

Startled by the sudden ejection, Embra stared at her creature, who appeared to be concentrating intensely. A moment later, several pinpricks of dim light came into existence. She recoiled, trying to find their source, and a moment later did. Her creature's spines, between which stretched orange membranes, were giving off faint, dim spots of light from their very tips. It wasn't very bright at all, and a faded icy blue in colour, but she'd had no idea he could produce light in the first place. It was brightest, she noted, on the strange rudder of a tail he had; each of the thick, rounded spines on it bore a glowing shape like an oval within it, and then a series of similarly lit odd markings that went as far as the paddle's root. She'd never observed any such markings on his tail in the daylight, which made their sudden illumination all the more startling.

"I didn't know you could do that." Embra noted, both surprised and impressed, despite the faintness of the light projected. The lights might have been quite visible on the strange tail, but on the tips of the spines they was so very dim as to nearly be invisible. She doubted it would be of much help, but she appreciated the effort.

Her creature shrugged his shoulders, a disturbingly human motion, as if to reply that he hadn't known either. Then, without any indication as to what he was doing, he climbed down to the water's edge, turned around, and deposited his glowing tailtip into the black water. Embra noted that, for about a half-metre around his tail, she could see the water, but aside from that it was fairly useless. She would be completely unable to spot any fish with such a dim lantern to see by. The girl was in the process of telling the Serpent this when, abruptly, a dark silhouette come looking interrupted her.

Apparently attracted by the Serpent's glow, a fish of average size drifted around the light, occasionally darting forwards to nip at the skin. The Serpent flinched a little when it did this, but didn't move. Instead, he looked at Embra expectantly.

Exalting whichever god had granted her Serpent his excellent instincts, Embra grinned, the unfamiliar expression feeling odd yet natural on her face. She needed no more encouragement to tote her harpoon, lean in for better aim, and fire. A splash of water and the last flops of the speared fish followed. She quickly withdrew and pulled the slippery creature off, holding it by the tail. She inspected it, finding it to be of fair size.

_Eat?_ The Serpent asked, presenting her eagerly with the newest addition to his vocabulary. Embra spared it a brief flicker of delight, but mostly she was too pleased about the promising new ease of her finishing to be very much occupied by her Serpent learning a new word.

And, as pleased as she was, she was hardly going to deny him. "Go ahead," She agreed, and tossed the fish to him. A moment of snapping teeth later, the entire thing had disappeared down his gullet, leaving a rather satisfied-looking creature behind. "So, why don't you put your tail back into the water, and we'll see how many fish we can catch?"

The Serpent, of course, was only too happy to comply.

It seemed that feeding him would be a little easier from now on.

Oo0oO

So, notes: it is not logical for Embra to be able to read. Hence why information must come from other sources. And yes, I'll be explaining why a scholar is actually devoting some of his time to answering some random street kid's questions.

If anyone is wondering what in God's name is up with the sounds our Serpent makes, think of a cross between a dolphin and a bird, with noises from whales, things that roar, and probably the freaky sounds that ostriches make. Mostly dolphin/bird though, with clicks and whirs and cheeps and trills. These will get louder and deeper as he grows.

Also, WARNING: while in many ways Sea-Serpents bear resemblance to their reptilian cousins, _they are different._ Very, very different. For one thing, they only have long-range offensive capabilities in special circumstances. They compensate for this by being ridiculously fast. They also have a lack of protective scales, another thing they compensate for, in an unusual way. Also, whereas Dragons are fantasy beasts of magic, mystery, and power, Sea-Serpents are purely hardwired for survival. They are better at killing and surviving than anything else. And, being the last of his kind, this Serpent is going to find a rather freakish way to ensure his species survives. That's your warning. You may find future concepts squicky, uncomfortable, and certainly strange.

-Darktayle


End file.
